


tall, dark, & handsome

by ravenraiyes



Series: tumblr prompts [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenraiyes/pseuds/ravenraiyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judging by the slight buzzing that seems to follow her everywhere she goes, Clarke is going to be heavily hungover in morning.</p><p>Clarke doesn’t care - her best friend’s getting married, an ex that cheated on said best friend is here at the wedding, and fuck, Clarke needs to get <i>laid.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	tall, dark, & handsome

Clarke regrets ever volunteering to be Raven’s maid of honor.

It’s not because the actual work was a lot more than she bargained for - no, Clarke knew just exactly what she was getting into when she agreed to this thing. Raven Reyes wasn’t exactly what you’d call an ordinary female (the brunette was a self proclaimed badass, actually) and Clarke, the good soul that she was, wanted nothing than the best for her dear friend.

Unfortunately for Clarke, that meant a lot - read: billions upon billions - of stress.

“For the last time Raven, you can’t have a robot as your ring bearer!” Clarke had groaned exasperatedly, vetoing yet another outlandish idea that Raven had suggested.

She’d initially thought it was a joke, but another glance at Reyes’ bright gaze, along with a bright, “ _they’re going to take over the world one day, Griffin, might as well show ‘em some respect”_ told Clarke it was not.

Wick just shrugged, grinning idiotically at his fiance - like he still couldn’t believe that she was his, that dork -  and downed another bottle of beer.

Clarke crumpled the can that she had in her hands and added it to the growing pile, which, disturbingly enough, seemed to swell in size every time she looked that way.

“C’mon, Clarke, can’t you at least consider it?” Raven pleaded, hands clasped together, “For one, they would fuck up considerably less. Anika’s got nothing on a good ol’ machine - “

“You are talking about your niece, you know.” Wick had inputted ever so helpfully, looking proud of himself as he’d taken another sip of his beer.

Clarke refrained from leaning over and choking him - it would’ve been easy, considering the close quarters they were in - because then it would leave Raven without a husband, and by definition, her wedding would be ruined.

(There would also be the murder charges, of course, but ruining Raven Reyes’ wedding is something Clarke significantly fears more.)

But it’s okay. It really is.

Because now they’re here in the hall that she’s managed to get for them - everyone’s here, actually - Raven’s absolutely stunning in her white dress , Kyle’s smiling at her in awe, they’ve said their vows, and praise jesus  _hallelujah_ , she’s survived this godforsaken wedding.

She’s going to celebrate this with wine. Tons of it, judging by the large weight that’s currently crushing her shoulders.

Except she can’t down every last bottle of Merlot and whatever the else kind of fancy wine that they’ve got on hand - anything even remotely alcoholic drink she can get her hands on, really - solely because she’s Raven’s maid of honor.

It would totally suck if they’ve made it this far without a hitch only to have the special event ruined by the planner itself.

So Clarke resigns, looking at the bottle forlornly, and moves her attention elsewhere.

And of course, since the universe really hates her, a dude with floppy hair and a tux nervously walks into the reception area, hands pulling at a too tight bow tie.

 _Is that fucking Finn Collins?_ she thinks, horrified, and her hand twitches, just  _begging_ to pour herself a glass after the appearance of the class A douchebag.

She lets it, mainly because Finn Collins is the fucking douche who cheated on Raven (with Clarke, she might add) and still deems it socially acceptable to attend her wedding.

Who in the hell does that?

“Fuck it,” she grimaces, downing her whole glass in one gulp, wondering all the while  _who in the hell invited his sorry ass to the party?_

She’s going to need a lot more wine.

+++

Judging by the slight buzzing that seems to follow her everywhere she goes, Clarke is going to be heavily hungover in morning.

Clarke doesn’t care - her best friend’s getting married, an ex that cheated on said best friend is here at the wedding, and fuck, Clarke needs to get  _laid._

A smooth chuckle sounds from right behind her ear, and she shivers at the low timbre of his voice, flushing when her addled brain realizes that she’s said that out loud.

“Please don’t tell me you heard that,” she groans halfheartedly, placing her drink down and tracing the rim with her fingers. Her head’s still faced forward; Clarke can feel her face progressive towards an unpleasant shade of fire hydrant red, and judging by Mr. Stranger’s voice, he’s an attractive man.

By the law of nature, anyone with an attractive voice also has, by definition an attractive face.

“Of course I did, Princess. Would you like me to help with that?” he whispers in her ear, and Clarke has to clench her thighs together because  _holy hell, did his voice just drop twenty thousand octaves?_

This man is a danger to the female population; he’s doing things to Clarke with just the sound of his voice, just imagine what would happen if she’d turned around -

“It’d be fucking amazing, that’s what,” he says, voice still deep as fuck but also interlaced with lots of humor, and Clarke really just wants to drown her sorrows in the remainder of this bottle of wine, thank you very much.

She turns around, mouth open to apologize, when she’s greeted by a  _fucking hot_  son of a bitch.

She’s stuttering, she’s sure, but she can’t help the hard lines her eyes trace as they wander over his crisp form; the black tux on this guy looks like it was made for him - instead of the slimy look when Finn wore it - fitting Mystery Guy to a tee, the material stretched so that she can definitely see the broad shoulders that lie beneath.

“Like what you see?” He smirks, winking at her, and Clarke is - so fucking dead.

Because _hell yeah_ , she wants this guy.

“I’m really drunk,” she confesses, and the man tips his head back in laughter, but she musters on nonetheless, “so I would really appreciate it if you’d  _entertain_ me so I won’t ruin this goddamn wedding.”

“If you get my drift.” Clarke raises an eyebrow, deliberately tugging at her bridesmaid dress so that Tall, Dark, and Handsome can get a peek of her lacy black panties (thank god she’d decided to wear her best pair today).

Needless to say,  _that_  shuts him up real quick.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://grounderbell.tumblr.com/)
> 
> maybe send me some prompts?


End file.
